


Bonding over rhymes about murder and death!

by Astral_Space_Dragon



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: And there's also like 2 f-bombs?, Dark Poetry, F/M, Humor, I'm talking old nursery rhymes, Romance, and the lizzie bourden rhyme, like mary mary quite contrary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astral_Space_Dragon/pseuds/Astral_Space_Dragon
Summary: This fic was inspired by a post I made and the idea that some fellow creators threw around. I couldn't help myself, I really wanted to write it out.Here's the mentioned post in ya'll are curious: https://astral-space-dragon.tumblr.com/post/190584406106/harlot-of-oblivion-astral-space-dragonENJOY!
Relationships: Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Kudos: 28





	Bonding over rhymes about murder and death!

Vergil sat on one of the couches in the lobby when he heard… singing? Beautiful singing. From Y/N no doubt. He always found her voice to be like that of an angel which, being part-demon, he found ironic. **  
**

He stood from the couch and stealthily walked to where his beloved was and listened.

_Lizzie Borden took an axe,_

_Gave her mother forty whacks._

_When she saw what she had done,_

_Gave her father forty-one._

At that point, Vergil grew concerned; why was his love singing something so… macabre?

Without warning Vergil walked into their shared bedroom and blurted out, “Where did you learn such a dark song?”

Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin, “Jesus Christ, Vergil! Give a girl a warning before bursting in!”

“Apologies, my love. But, I must know. Where did you learn something so macabre? So bloody.”

“I-I’ve always known it. I always sang this to myself when I was a little girl”

“A rather bloody song for a small girl to know, don’t you think?”

“Says the man, who grew up reading equally dark poetry”, Y/N retorted with a teasing smile.

Returning the smile, Vergil said, “Fair enough. Mind if I ask: what is the origin of the rhyme?”

Y/N got an excited gleam in her eye, “You don’t know?” making a dramatic gesture toward the bed, “Sit down and I will tell you the dark tale”

Vergil rolled his eyes, smile still intact, but sat down nonetheless.

“Okay, so in the late 1800s in Massachusetts, there was a woman named Lizzie Borden….”

—————————————————–

“….Even to this day, there are people that think she’s innocent”, Y/N concluded.

“Are you serious?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve met people who insist that she didn’t do it.”

“Even after what she gained from their deaths?”

Y/N nods, “And that’s the origin of the rhyme”

“Very enlightening. You are quite the story-teller.”

“Aaw. I tell a good murder story, don’t I?”

Vergil chuckled, “That you do” with that he got up and gave Y/N a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.

_——————————-A week later——————————_

“No way!” Dante retorted.

Y/N raised her hand “I swear on it, man”

“8-tracks are NOT better than cassette tapes!”

“That’s what I told her!”

“What she say?”

“She said, ‘Well, you listen to music from records so you really have to room to argue’”

“No fucking way!”

“Yeah. She said that! I told her to piss off. I don’t have the energy for that noise.”

Dante chuckled, “I’m surprised you didn’t tear into her, like the little C-4 pack you are”

“Believe me, I really wanted to”

Vergil entered the agency.

Y/N turned to his direction, “Hey, Vergil. How was the library?”

“Relaxing, like always. I’ve read a few things that I think you’d like. Would you like to hear them?”

Y/N smiles “Of course”

Vergil took a breath

_I married a wife on Sunday,_

_She began to scold on Monday,_

_Bad was she on Tuesday,_

_Middling was she on Wednesday,_

_Worse she was on Thursday,_

_Dead was she on Friday,_

_Glad was I on Saturday night,_

_To bury my wife on Sunday._

Dante gets a confused look on his face, “Uuuh… Verge? Not sure if that’s something the lady wants to hear…”

Y/N’s eyes sparkle as she recites,

There was a Man so Wise,

_He jumpt into_

_A Bramble Bush,_

_And scratcht out both his Eyes._

_And when he saw_

_His Eyes were out,_

_And reason to Complain,_

_He jumpt into a Quickset Hedge,_

_And scratcht them in again._

Vergil smiles,

_Mary, Mary, quite contrary_

_How does your garden grow?_

_With silver bells and cockleshells_

_And pretty maids all in a row._

Dante looks between Vergil and Y/N and only lets out an exasperated, “Aah fuck…”

_————————–Three days later—————–_

“I’m about to fuckin lose it. They’ve been at it notstop!” Dante complained as he leaned on his desk.

Nero gave Dante an incredulous “Come on! It can’t be that bad. Sounds like they’re just reciting some poetry.”

Lady added, “Besides, they’re bonding over something that Vergil loves. I think that’s kinda cute.”

Trish hummed in agreement.

Dante sat up, “But the ‘poems’ are some of the most fucked up shit I’ve heard. And she LOVES it!”

“Dante, you worry too much. Let them be” sighed Trish.

As if on cue, Y/N and Vergil came down the stairs, dress up for their date tonight.

Y/N leaned on Vergil’s shoulder,

_Oranges and lemons,_

_Say the bells of St. Clement’s._

_You owe me five farthings,_

_Say the bells of St. Martin’s._

_When will you pay me?_

_Say the bells of Old Bailey._

_When I grow rich,_

_Say the bells of Shoreditch._

_When will that be?_

_Say the bells of Stepney._

_I do not know,_

_Says the great bell of Bow._

_Here comes a candle to light you to bed,_

_And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!_

Vergil kissed the top of her head,

_Who killed Cock Robin?_

_I, said the Sparrow,_

_with my bow and arrow,_

_I killed Cock Robin._

_Who saw him die?_

_I, said the Fly,_

_with my little eye,_

_I saw him die._

_Who caught his blood?_

_I, said the Fish,_

_with my little dish,_

_I caught his blood._

_Who’ll make the shroud?_

_I, said the Beetle,_

_with my thread and needle,_

_I’ll make the shroud._

_Who’ll dig his grave?_

_I, said the Owl,_

_with my little trowel,_

_I’ll dig his grave._

_Who’ll be the parson?_

_I, said the Rook,_

_with my little book,_

_I’ll be the parson._

_Who’ll be the clerk?_

_I, said the Lark,_

_if it’s not in the dark,_

_I’ll be the clerk._

_Who’ll carry the link?_

_I, said the Linnet,_

_I’ll fetch it in a minute,_

_I’ll carry the link._

_Who’ll be chief mourner?_

_I, said the Dove,_

_I mourn for my love,_

_I’ll be chief mourner._

_Who’ll carry the coffin?_

_I, said the Kite,_

_if it’s not through the night,_

_I’ll carry the coffin._

_Who’ll bear the pall?_

_We, said the Wren,_

_both the cock and the hen,_

_We’ll bear the pall._

_Who’ll sing a psalm?_

_I, said the Thrush,_

_as she sat on a bush,_

_I’ll sing a psalm._

_Who’ll toll the bell?_

_I, said the Bull,_

_because I can pull,_

_I’ll toll the bell._

_All the birds of the air_

_fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,_

_when they heard the bell toll_

_for poor Cock Robin._

Y/N giggled as they exited through the door, leaving the four other hunters speechless and in disbelief.

Dante sighed, “What did I fuckin tell you?”


End file.
